Rose Thorn

Windshield wipers slashed urgent arcs as Lin Wanqing's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The saccharine melody of "Wedding March" blared from the car radio, but in her rearview mirror, the silver Bentley crushed through puddles to block her path. "Miss Lin." The window rolled down, Gu Chengyan's voice pouring in with the cold rain. His suit collar hung open, a hideous old scar on his collarbone peeking out—the gash she'd sliced with a palette knife three years ago, a spray of blood roses on his studio's white wall. Lin Wanqing's throat tightened. Three days ago, she'd stood in a fitting room in an ivory wedding dress while Shen Yanzhi knelt with a blue diamond ring: "Wanqing, I'll provide for you." Now, her "best friend" Su Manni sat in Shen Yanzhi's sports car passenger seat, holding up a phone to mouth: "Sorry, but your dad's life savings need to be traded for me." "What game are you playing, Mr. Gu?" She slammed on the brakes, raindrops splattering his polished Oxford shoes. The man leaned in suddenly, thumb brushing the teardrop mole at her eye. Memories flooded back—on her eighteenth birthday, she'd stood in a sunflower field in a white dress while he sketched her from behind a tree, the rose in his drawing thorned, petals edged with wet ink. "Lin Group will go bankrupt tomorrow." Gu Chengyan leaned back, yanking a document from his inner pocket and flinging it onto her lap. "Your father's heart transplant—Swiss imported artificial heart, deposit is 80 million yuan." The gold-embossed "Gu Group" on the file cover stung her eyes. Lin Wanqing clenched the papers, nails digging into her palm: "So what do you want? My company? Or me?" "Marry me." The rain suddenly roared. Lin Wanqing thought she'd misheard until Gu Chengyan pulled out a ring—not Shen Yanzhi's blue diamond, but a black diamond, twelve smaller diamonds encircling the main stone, identical to the thorned rose he'd drawn on the back of her sketchpad at age eighteen. "A sham marriage for one year." He twirled the ring, black diamond catching the light. "I'll give you 80 million to solve Lin Group's crisis; you play the loving wife for three months, then we divorce, no strings attached." "Why me?" Gu Chengyan smiled, the expression like an ice-quenched blade. "Three years ago, you said, 'I will beat you.' Now I want to see you crawl out of the mud to win." Her phone vibrated. A hospital message: "Mr. Lin Zhengxiong's condition has deteriorated. Please pay the deposit immediately. Remaining time: 01:59:59." Lin Wanqing stared at the countdown, suddenly laughing. "Deal." She snatched the black diamond ring, knuckles white from pressure. "But conditions—" "Name them." "First, secret marriage. We're the 'business partners' in public. Second, no interference in my personal life. Third..." She stood on tiptoe, breath in his ear, "If you dare fall for me, I'll plaster Gu Tower with that ugly rose you drew on my studio wall." Gu Chengyan's pupils constricted. On that stormy night three years ago, she had found his secret sketch: her in a white dress, sunflower field, him hiding behind a tree, thorns on the rose. "Deal." He bent to brush her rain-dampened hair. "Welcome to Mrs. Gu's game, Miss Lin." Her phone vibrated again. Su Manni's message: "Wanqing, Shen Yanzhi says he loves me. You won't blame me, right?" The photo showed them cuddling in the sports car, backdrop the bridal shop she'd decorated. She looked down at the black diamond on her ring finger, the wiper's rhythm suddenly deafening. "Mr. Gu." Her eyes flashed sharpness when she looked up. "The contract missed a clause—" "What?" "If you fall first," she tilted her chin, "besides rose posters, you owe me a lifetime." Gu Chengyan's Adam's apple bobbed. Before he could speak, her phone rang again—another hospital reminder, the red exclamation mark burning her eyes. "Mrs. Gu's game is just starting." She pushed open the door, black diamond glinting in the rain. "But Mr. Gu, I advise you not to lose."